


The Best Place to Be

by orphan_account



Series: Nico, Brave and Short (Or, the Adventures of Jean and Marco's Little Boy) [3]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-28 09:59:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2728139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean and Marco go off on an expedition outside the Walls. Only Marco returns, informing Nico that Jean is injured, and his very life in hanging by a thread...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Place to Be

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fanfic featuring my OC, Nicolas, who is the biological son of Marco Bott and adopted son of Jean Kirschtein. I roleplay Nico on the tumblr blog nico-the-brave.  
> For those who don’t know: “Daddy” is Jean [Kirschtein] and “Papa” is Marco [Bott]

"Where _are_ they?" Nico whined, flopping back in the armchair. It was the big overstuffed one by the fireplace, that Daddy liked to read in at night.

Auntie Sasha sat in Papa’s chair, about an arm’s length away. She peeked at Nico over the pages of the book she was reading. " Patience, ducky. They’ll be home soon, don’t you worry."

Nico glared petulantly up at the cracked plaster ceiling. He was _tired_ of being patient! He had been patient for three whole days, while Daddy and Papa were away on expidition. Now, the day that they were supposed to return home, they were delayed in returning. That was enough to expend the patience of any five-year-old.

"What’s _taking_ so long?" Nico whined again.

Auntie Sasha, with the patience of a saint, replied automatically, "Being a Squad Leader in the Survey Corps is a _very_ important job, Nico, and a very _busy_ one, too. Daddy and Papa are doing their jobs, even if it means putting in a few extra hours if their expidition gets"—Her bright smile faltered a little—"gets held up."

Nico, still pouting, groaned. "But I want them to be home _now!_ "

"I know you do, pumpkin," Auntie Sasha sighed. "But unfortunately, _wanting_ is not going to bring them home any sooner. We’ve got to keep ourselves occupied till then. Why don’t we—"

The click of a key turning in the front door’s lock immedately silenced anything else that Auntie Sasha was going to say.

"DADDY!! PAPA!!" Nico yelled with joy. He immedately scrambled out of Daddy’s armchair and ran to the front door, eager to see the weary but smiling faces of his parents…

But what Nico found on the other side of the front door was not at all what he expected.

It was Papa, and he was alone. His stubbly face was gaunt and haggard. And his eyes—eyes that were warm like chocolate and always twinkled with happiness—now looked cold and lost; like he didn’t know where to go or what to do.

Papa shut the door and leaned back against it, as if he no longer had the strength to stand. His eyes slid closed, and he took a deep, steadying breath.

"Papa?" Nico said, his voice tentative and small.

"Marco!" Auntie Sasha’s voice came unexpectedly, causing Nico to jump. Nico turned to look at her; her face was white. "Marco, where is Jean?"

Papa opened his eyes. His gaze shifted from Nico to Auntie Sasha and back again.

"Nico," Papa said softly. The corners of his mouth twitched up into the faintest of reasurring smiles, one that failed to reach his haunted eyes. "Nico, why don’t you go to your room for a minute? I need to talk to Auntie Sasha about something."

Nico didn’t move an inch. "Papa, where’s—"

"Go to your room, Nico," Papa wasn’t asking this time. He added, a little more gently, "I’ll be up to talk to you in a little bit. Go on, now."

Begrudgingly, Nico obeyed. He trudged up the creaky stairs that led to his room, glancing over his shoulder once to watch Papa and Auntie Sasha disappear into the parlor. They shut the parlor door firmly behind them.

Nico flopped onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling. Minutes ticked by, every second an eternity. Nico’s tummy began to twist into knots. Why was Papa so upset? Where was Daddy? Did…Did Daddy go to Heaven?

Nico shook his head at that. No, Daddy wouldn’t go to Heaven until he was old and creaky and his head was bald and shiny where his undercut used to be. That’s what Papa always said, and Papa was always right.

Desparate for reasurrance of some kind, Nico rolled onto his stomach and slid his hand under his pillow. His searching fingers made contact with crumpled fabric, and he drew out two shirts: one crisp white, the other olive green. Both were far larger than Nico.

Nico grabbed the green shirt and held it close. It still smelled like Daddy; like the musky pine trees through whose treetops he soared on his 3D-maneuver-gear, and like the wild green lands far beyond the walls.

Daddy and Papa had each given Nico one of their old uniform shirts four nights ago, before they left on the expidition. The giving of the shirts had become a routine now, a ritual they performed every couple of months, before Daddy and Papa ventured beyond the walls with their Squads. And every time Daddy pressed the neatly folded shirts into Nico’s tiny hands, he would always say the same thing: "Remember: if you get scared, Nico, or miss us while we’re away, hold these close and remember that Daddy and Papa will be home soon, yeah?"

Now, as Nico sat on his bed, scared and missing his Daddy terribly, he gripped the shirt as tightly as he could. Hot tears began to sting his eyes, spilling over and making wet spots on the green shirt. "Daddy will be home soon," Nico whispered into the fabric. "Daddy will be home soon."

\- - - - -

Nico’s bedroom door swung inward with a muted creak. Nico, lying on the bed and still clutching Daddy’s shirt, looked up. Papa smiled weakly from the doorway.

"There’s my boy," he said.

Nico sprang from his bed and practically threw himself into Papa’s open arms. Questions tumbled from his mouth in a torrent. "Papa! Why are you so upset? Why did you take so long to get home? Where’s Daddy?"

"Calm down, Nico, and I’ll tell you." Papa scooped Nico up into his arms, holding him close to his broad chest. Nico could hear Papa’s heart beating steadily and strongly beneath his ear.

"Nico," Papa’s deep voice rumbled in his chest as he spoke. "The reason why we were delayed in coming home, was because…we ran into Titans. We were caught by surprise, and lots of people got very badly hurt…including Daddy."

Nico’s blood ran cold. For a moment, he was very still and quiet. Then, "Papa…is Daddy in Heaven?"

Papa shook his head. "No, Daddy is still with us; he’s in the infirmary, near the center of Trost, but—"

"Can we go visit him, Papa?"

"No, Nico. You didn’t let me finish. Like I said, Daddy is in the infirmary because he’s very badly hurt. He’s…very fragile right now, like a little bird. He needs to rest, or else he’ll get even weaker than he is now, and…" Papa trailed off.

Several seconds of silence. Nico twisted in his father’s arms so he could see his tired face. "And what, Papa?"

Papa closed his eyes. "We need to pray, Nico. We need to pray that Daddy gets strong again."  
  
And Nico knew that the situation was more dire than he could have imagined when Papa opened his eyes again.

They were brimming with unshed tears.

\- - - - -

Even though the world felt upside down, the following days took on a sort of odd routine. Papa would be gone before Nico was awake, going to work with his Squad. After work, Nico was told by Auntie Sasha, Papa would go to the infirmary and spend all the time he could with Daddy, until the nurses would kick Papa out when visiting hours were over.

Nico thought the nurses were very mean for doing that.

As for Nico himself, the days were very long. He wasn’t to start school until the fall, so he had nothing of real importance to distract him from the dark cloud that loomed over the household. At first, Nico tried playing with his toys or looking through picture books that Auntie Sasha gave him to read, but it wasn’t long before Nico’s thoughts turned back to his father. Nico eventually gave up on trying to distract himself and sat on his bed with Daddy’s green shirt clutched in his arms, watching people in the street below and wondering if, in that very moment, Daddy was growing stronger.

Auntie Sasha (who had taken up temporary full-time residence in the Bott-Kirschtein household) tried to offer some distraction by telling Nico stories while cooking or even inviting Nico to help prepare a meal (to "be her second hand", as she called it, as she only had one now), but it was evident that she was just as worried about Daddy as Papa was. Nico could tell; her happy voice sounded strained, and the big smile permanently plastered on her face didn’t quite reach her eyes.

As for Papa, Nico saw nothing of his father until late evening, just before Nico’s bedtime. It was then that Daddy would come home, looking careworn and utterly exhausted. He would kneel next to Nico at the little boy’s bedside and they would say prayers together like they always did, but these prayers were more somber than usual ("Dear God, please bless us and keep us and all of our friends and family, especially Daddy. Please, please give Daddy health. Let his injuries heal, and let him get stronger so he can continue to protect us and all humanity. Amen."). Then Papa would tuck Nico into bed, kiss him goodnight, and the whole terrible cycle would begin anew the next morning.

Then, one afternoon, everything changed.

Nico was sitting in Daddy’s chair by the fireplace, listening to Auntie Sasha read a story called _Little Red Riding Hood,_ when the front door’s lock sharply turned. Into the parlor flew Papa—his wide eyes brimming with tears and his mouth gaping open like a fish. His mouth moved several times, trying desparately to form words, but no sound came out.

His eyes locked on Auntie Sasha, who paled and immedately stood up. She ushered Papa over to his chair by the fireplace, talking all the while. "Marco? What’s the matter? What’s happened? How is Jean?"

"Out of danger," Papa said breathlessly. "He’s out of danger!" Papa put his head in his hands just as violent sobs began to shake his whole body. He crumpled, like a house of cards that had finally given way under too much weight. Auntie Sasha bent over Papa, wrapping her arms around him and whispering comforting words in the calm voice she usually used when Nico was upset.

Nico, still sitting in Daddy’s chair an arm’s length away, was stunned. Never, _ever_ had he seen Papa so discomposed before. He didn’t completely understand why Papa was crying, but it must have been bad; Auntie Sasha was crying, too. She positioned herself on the arm of Papa’s chair and started dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.

"Papa?" Nico asked, his voice was very small and quiet.

Papa lifted his head and looked at Nico in surprise, like he hadn’t realized Nico was there. The corners of Papa’s mouth lifted and spread into the widest grin he had ever worn, and his brown eyes shone with a fiercely happy light.

"Nico!" Papa exclaimed. He grabbed a squealing Nico and held him almost crushingly tight. Nico whimpered, barely able to breathe. Several of the buttons on Papa’s uniform shirt pressed uncomfortably into his cheek.

But any annoyance Nico felt faded away completely when he heard Papa exclaim, "Nico, Daddy’s getting stronger! He’s going to get better!"

\- - - - -

"Now what did we agree on, Nico?" Papa asked, as a nurse led them to Daddy’s room.

Nico huffed; Papa had asked him this about a _hundred_ times already. "I’m gonna be good and quiet and stay by you and not wander off, Papa." Nico recited flatly.

Papa nodded. "And what happens if you don’t do as we agreed?"

Nico gulped. "We go home." Nico was going to try his very best to be good; he wanted to stay by Daddy for as long as possible.

Papa seemed to know Nico was going to be on his best behavior, but he added for good measure, "I know you’re excited to see Daddy, Nico, but you’ve got to behave yourself. Even though he’s getting better, he’s still tired from trying to get well. And that last thing a recovering person needs is a little hyperactive bunny rabbit hopping all over them." He smiled, tapping Nico fondly on the nose with a finger.

Nico wrinkled his nose in a very bunny-like fashion, shifting the cloth-wrapped bundle he held in his little arms. "I’m not a bunny, Papa!" he said indignantly.

Papa laughed. "You sure look like one to me." He eyed Nico’s parcel. "Need help carrying that?"

Nico shook his head and clutched the parcel to his chest. "I wanna give this to Daddy myself."

"Okay," Papa smiled, then looked up at the nurse, who had stopped to inform them that they had arrived at Daddy’s room. Papa thanked her even as he guided Nico to the door. Nico was about ready to burst with excitement as Papa turned the knob and opened the door…

…And there was Daddy!

He lay in bed in the quiet room, propped up against a small mountain of fluffy-looking pillows. His arm was in a sling, and most of his torso and his head were bandaged with crisp white gauze. His head was lolled back against one of his pillows, his eyes closed and mouth partly open. His face was a little pale, and he looked tired, but he was Daddy all the same, and Nico was overjoyed to see him.

"Daddy!" Nico whisper-called, as he and Papa walked into the room.

Daddy’s eyes fluttered open. His mouth turned up into a tired, crooked smile. "Hey, my brave soldier," he said softly. His voice was a little raspy.

Nico’s little heart was overcome with emotion. Relinquishing his parcel to Papa, he rushed over to his Daddy’s side and (heeding Papa’s warnings to be _very_ careful), he hugged Daddy, not wanting to ever let go again. "I missed you, Daddy!" Nico said. Hot tears were already rolling down his cheeks.

"I missed you too, Nico," Daddy replied. His voice was a little thicker than before, and looking up at his father’s face, Nico could see that Daddy was crying, too.

\- - - - -

They spent several hours with Daddy in his little room in the infirmary. Papa talked to Daddy about work, and how all the soldiers in Daddy’s Squad had been praying for Daddy’s recovery. From his perch in Papa’s lap, Nico told Daddy all about the adventures he and Buchwald had gone on while Daddy and Papa were away on expedition, about cooking meals with Auntie Sasha, and about how much he had missed Daddy while he was getting better in the infirmary. And Daddy listened to it all with a tired but happy smile on his face.

Hours went by like a second, and soon the sunlight began to stream gold and burnt orange through the window. It was getting late.

With a sigh, Papa scooched Nico off his lap, and stood up from the chair he had pulled over to Papa’s bedside. "Well, we’d best be going before they come to shoo us out," he said to Daddy with a smile.

Nico perked up immedately. "Wait, Papa! We can’t go yet!" Nico grabbed his little parcel from where it had been sitting on the floor by Papa’s chair.

Papa grinned at Daddy. "Oh yes! Nico brought something for you."

Daddy raised an eyebrow "Oh really? What is it, Nico?"

Nico plopped the parcel on the bed, carefully unwrapping the contents. He placed a neatly folded white shirt and a (much smaller) yellow one on Daddy’s lap. Nico said, "If you get scared, Daddy, or miss us because the mean nurse ladies kick us out"—"Nicolas!" Papa scolded—"hold these close and remember that you will be home soon, okay?"

For a moment, Daddy was quiet. He looked from the shirts to Nico and back again. He swallowed hard. His eyes looked glassy, like he was going to cry again. "Thank you, Nico," he said softly. He wrapped his good arm around Nico and held him close.

Being held in his father’s arms, Nico decided, was the best place to be.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! As always, Comments and Kudos are greatly appreciated! :)


End file.
